


When I Open My Eyes

by emmaliza



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: 90s fic, Dom/sub Undertones, Friendship, Humor, Kink Discovery, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension, like the tiniest bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza
Summary: "I need to get a handle on this.""You need sleep."Gary's attempts to get up to date with modern music are keeping Howard up, and he comes up with a not particularly well thought through plan to fix it.





	When I Open My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [目之所及](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18681706) by [alanarcane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanarcane/pseuds/alanarcane)



“Gaz, if you touch that stereo one more time, I'm going to tie you to the bed.”

Gary stops, hand halfway to the volume dial, and frowns at him. “I'm not even on the bed!” he protests from the spare mattress on Howard's floor. “I need to get a handle on all this.”

Howard groans into his pillow. Yeah, he knows, Gaz didn't explain it all. He's worried that none of their singles have broken through yet, thinks he's not in touch with modern music, and wants to get to grips with the sort of stuff Howard listens to. Howard thought it was cute, and a bit flattering, that someone who'd lived and breathed music since he was about ten years old thought he had something to learn from _him_. And he had a fun night, teaching Gaz how to use his turntable and whatever. He seemed astonished to learn not all songs are composed on a piano.

But that was seven hours ago. Now, it is almost three in the morning, and Gary is still so concerned he won't stop fiddling with the music and go to bed. And Howard is tired.

“You need _sleep_ ,” he insists, and Gary scoffs.

“You can talk,” he says. “Weren't you just telling me about all your times off partying all night like the cool kids do?”

Howard has to chuckle. Yeah, alright, Gaz has been a workaholic since the day he was born it seems, and so Howard couldn't help teasing him a bit with tales of debauchery. He might have exaggerated for affect a bit. Gary seemed scandalised by the drink and drugs and sex – but intrigued.

“Yeah, and I've done it enough to know if you try and get up at the crack of dawn for rehearsals without any proper sleep, you'll be right mess. So will I! So go to bed already.”

Gary huffs, but he does quieten down, and Howard rolls over into his pillow, hoping he might finally drift off himself.

Not five minutes later, a thumping bass fills the room again.

“Right.”

He sits up straight. He's not usually like this – he's just not confident enough to be this bossy – but desperate times call for desperate measures. “Ah!” Gary cries as Howard grabs him from under his shoulders, but he immediately goes limp in Howard's arms. With every inch of strength Howard drags him up and onto the bed. Gary gasps when Howard pushes him on his back, pins him to the bed. He grabs Gary's arms and pushes them up toward the headboard. He's got his Man U. scarf on the bedside table, and grabs it, hurriedly knotting it around Gary's wrists, maybe tying a bit too tight in his rush.

And then, he realises what he's doing.

Were he not so sleep deprived, he might have thought through the plan a bit better, but now – well now he's got Gary tied to his bed, and he's lying on top of him. Neither of them is wearing much of anything, just their boxers. Gaz might be sheltered, but he's not _that_ sheltered. He's going to get the wrong idea, right?

Hesitantly, Howard meets Gary's eye. He seems dumbstruck by what just happened, but he's not struggling. Not trying to get away at all. His jaw has dropped open a bit and his pupils look blown-wide. Granted, it is dark, but...

A lump forms in Howard's throat as blood starts rushing toward his groin. Shit, now _he's_ getting the wrong idea. The beat from the stereo matches his thumping heartbeat. “I'm turning that off,” he says and hurriedly gets up to get rid of that music which started this whole problem. He tries to ignore how much he immediately misses the heat of Gary's body.

Across the room, Gary lets out a soft noise. If Howard didn't know better, he'd say it was a whimper. “Dougie?” When Howard looks at him again, he looks... different. It's like his whole body has gone lax. He's not going to squirm out of that scarf any time soon – even if Howard's sure he could, doesn't look like he wants to. Fuck, does being tied up do it for Gaz that much? He wouldn't have pegged him for the type.

Howard's definitely half-hard now, and looking at Gaz tied up and waiting for him, he immediately thinks of dozens of dirty things he could do with him. He didn't have himself pegged for that type either. Jesus.

But still, he's reluctant to do anything about it. This clearly came right the fuck out of nowhere for the both of them, and he doesn't want to take advantage. He's still not sure Gaz isn't still a virgin, for fuck's sake.

Slowly, he walks back over to the bed, and without untying him he rolls Gary over onto his side. Awkwardly, he has to squirm back onto the narrow mattress, and he spoons Gary from behind just to fit, hoping the other boy won't notice his ever-worsening erection. He can't help kissing the nape of his neck though, which isn't exactly subtle. “Go to sleep.”

A shudder runs through Gary's body, and he goes even limper, if that was possible. It's like he's been wound up all night, and now, for some reason, all that tensions been released. _Bloody repressed types._ Within seconds Gaz is softly snoring in his arms.

And that leaves Howard still exhausted, but half-hard and horny and not in the slightest bit able to sleep. And he doesn't even have any music to listen to.

_Bastard,_ he thinks with a smile.

 


End file.
